User blog comment:Brigadier Barty/Tavern of the Rusted Claw/@comment-32303-20140728010844/@comment-2246928-20140728013754

''The moment Branna Deadrigg stepped into the tavern, her ears were attacked by the sound of raucous singing, cursing, fighting, laughing, and the sound of chairs scraping backwards aross the floor as a fox and his crew stood up and brushed past the stoat, the fox casting her a cold look in passing; her nose filled with the stench of dirty sweat and warm rum, and a strangely-clad vixen caught the stoat's eye. She was dressed in filthy, yellowing rags, her shaggy fur covered with feathers and talismans, her skin with sickly tattoos. Shuffling at an awkward gait across the floor, Valzevere's red-rimmed brown eyes found Branna, and she was soon at the stoat's side, grinning broadly at her, her eyes widening'' "You!" She hissed through blackened teeth, giggling inanely "Just who I was looking for!"